


Faith in Your Honor

by Renee561



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anti Rhaegar Targaryen, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Minor Anti Eddard Stark, Post-Canon, season 8 wish list
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 00:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16566371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renee561/pseuds/Renee561
Summary: In winter, a moment is shared between two people.





	Faith in Your Honor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WackyGoofball](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WackyGoofball/gifts).



> Hello!
> 
> Right so this piece came about because my wonderful friend Wackygoofball is now another year older. Happy Birthday, Wackers!! Also the idea came from your wheels and I had fun trying to come up with an idea based on that. This is the result. Hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy it!
> 
> R
> 
> Mistakes are mine as this is unbeta'ed. Title helped by my friends over at the JBO. Thank you so much ladies <3

Jaime stood atop the battlements looking towards the training yard. The castle had changed since he was last here. Besides the obvious fact that it had been burnt by the Ironborn during the war and that It was now winter and the cold seeped into his bones at every moment. Despite that he was wearing furs and he had a warm fire every night.

 

No, something else about the place had change. Mayhaps it was the atmosphere. Before when Robert had come, there had been a warmth around the place, a certain atmosphere of love between the Starks. Now there were fights to be had, on and off the battlefield. The dead were here and the Starks were tripping over themselves, squabbling over house politics. After of course it had been revealed that Jon Snow was in fact Jon Targaryen. Rhaegar's last heir. 

 

He didn’t know how to process that. On the one hand, his Prince, the Prince he had believed in, tossed the Kingdoms into a bloody war for nothing. He had left him alone in King’s Landing with an impossible task. Protect the King, the city and his wife and heirs by himself, him a seventeen year old boy. The heirs he had, little Rhaenys and baby Aegon according to Sam Tarly, bastards now when he annulled his marriage to Elia Martell. The other, Eddard Stark had led a dubious existence while still shitting on Jaime for his deeds. The man, even in death, came out more honorable than Jaime still. Despite that Eddard had lied to his best friend, his wife, and the whole seven kingdoms for nigh on seventeen years.

 

Lady Sansa was a cold replica of her late mother, only allowing the smallest of smiles when she found something amusing to cross her face. He knew the child had been through hell and back, but the way she acted was reminiscent of his sister far more than he knew Catelyn Stark to be. She and her cousin were at odds about the rule of the North. Sansa was of the opinion it should stay with him, as he was still the King of the North according to the Northern Lords; while the boy was of the opinion that it should go to his sister for she was Eddard Stark’s true born child. The arguments led Jaime many nights to escape war meetings with a shake of his head much like it had tonight.  _ Share the North, or whatever remains of it _ , he wanted to shout; his opinion was limited and he knew when to bite his tongue lately.

 

The executioner, as Jaime called her, after he heard that she had dispatched Baelish with her own blade; seemed to look at him as if she wanted to dispatch  _ him  _ single handedly. That was not an option, since he had guest rights under both Lady Sansa and the new Targaryen heir since he had come North to fight the dead, bringing Valyrian Steel with him. She seemed to despise him for it, which he couldn’t help be glad she was not Walder Frey.

 

Bran Stark was the most changed in his opinion. A feeling of remorse as he recalled with painful clarity tossing the child to his death from the tower, only because the boy had seen something that would have cost his family their heads. _ The things he did for love _ , the words now a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. 

 

“Lady Sansa told me I might find you here,” It was Brienne. The Maid of Tarth, more accurately the Lady Warrior of Tarth. 

 

“She was right,” he told his comrade quietly, watching the activity of the training yard.

 

Brienne was the main reason he came North. Oh he wanted to honor his vow of going North to fight the dead, he couldn’t sit by and wait for the war to come South.  He was no longer a man of inaction and he wasn’t Cersei. Cersei who was willing to let the world crumble to dust if it meant her to keep her throne, her power of three kingdoms. Maybe more once the war was over, and she conquered back the lands taken from her by Aerys’ daughter. That was another point of contention within the Starks, something he refused to dwell on.

 

More than anything though, he wanted to fight by Brienne’s side and try to be the man she saw him as, a man with honor. He’ll most likely die in this fight, his fighting skills not enough to keep the Stranger at bay for long, but maybe at last he’ll be that man. 

 

“I told you so,” she said it quietly, he almost didn’t catch it, but he was very much aware of the wench. 

 

She was the part of the reason he was standing here with his head. She vouched for him to the Starks, and the last Targaryen's. Tyrion’s voice wasn’t enough, not for Aerys’ daughter and not for any of the Starks besides Bran. Bran who looked at him, not with loathing as he suspected, but understanding if nothing else. A deep wisdom was in that child’s eyes and it was far more than anything he’s seen. 

 

Had Brienne kept quiet like he wanted, he’d not be alive. He’d not be about to die at the hands of some Grumkin’s and Snarks.  It was Brienne’s words that had stayed the little killer’s blade at his throat. 

 

_ “This goes beyond houses and loyalties, your grace. He came North, he  _ **_chose_ ** _ to fight for the living, are you so ready to go back on your promise like Cersei?”  _ that shocked the room, not only the Starks and Dragons. The whole North looked as if she had single handedly insulted their honor. 

 

The boy, no the King, had nodded and allowed him guest rights and quarters. Daily he had to watch Brienne trailing after the Stark girls like he once trailed after Arthur Dayne. It wasn’t a good feeling he had in the pit of his stomach.

 

“Oh and what did you tell me, wench?” he forced himself to talk, even though he much rather enjoy her company before she’s once more trailing behind the Starks like a not so little puppy. Brienne was more than a sworn sword, but she would never see it.

 

“You’re a knight and you have honor in you, Lord Jaime,” she told him not as quietly, but it wasn’t shouted from the battlements either. 

 

He looked at her, really looked at her and smiled. Something soft and fond he was sure. 

 

“You have more than enough honor for the both of us, Ser Brienne,” he told her and watched with satisfaction as she looked at him with confusion and was that tears in her eyes?

 

He continued on, “I might not be long for this world, but I do hope that after the war, Brienne, you go home, and take up your place as your father’s heir. You’re much more than a sworn shield, you’re a lady and a truer knight than I could ever be.”

 

He watched as some expression came over her face, and he really hoped that she wasn’t about to run off like she had in the tent at Riverrun. 

 

She did not. Instead she touched his hand-no his wrist, the one that covered his stump with the new hand he had forged on his way North. She even stepped closer than she should have. They already called her his whore after she defended him to the North, despite the fact he was sure she was still a maid.

 

“I don’t believe that to be true...Jaime. I believe you have more honor in you than you let people see,” she squeezed his wrist before turning to leave him there with his thoughts. His wrist burned pleasantly where she had touched him and he wondered why he wanted to go after her?

 

Oh right. He licked his chapped lips and called after her, “Brienne, you know back in the tent at Riverrun...I wasn't just talking about the sword.” 

 

She had paused and looked at him, her expression soft. Something that he found she could be. “I know. It wasn't until I heard about the dragon that I realized what you meant.” 

  
She walked away and Jaime had to smile.  _ Good, then maybe you just might return my feelings then.  _


End file.
